Alinea

It’s December fourth.  And almost unfathomable that it’s been 360 days since our little world changed.

James left for Stanford last night for a series of appointments and scans today.  This generally coincides with the soles of my feet prickling all day with anxiety and me recommitting to meditation instead of listening to political podcasts.  The promising news is that these days are much fewer and farther between, and last year’s Christmas week of entirely silent nights is beginning to fade.

The San Luis Obispo sky was crystal clear today.  And so was James’ scan.  Dr. Sung said things look so good that he doesn’t have to go back for his next check-up until June.  Rainbows, hummingbirds and hearts.  It is sweet, sweet music to our ears and my tears are pure relief and gratitude.

Earlier this week, Jakey was telling me about all the things his after school program leader, Skylar, has been telling him about her favorite show on Netflix, Chef’s Table.  He was literally able to recite every highlight and the entire storyline of the hour-long episode about one of the most famous chefs in America, Grant Achatz, including his infamous rosemary scented pillows.  He knew the story about his cancer and his inability to taste and that he still topped the charts as the best restaurant in America.  His restaurant is called Alinea, meaning “the beginning of a new train of thought.”

After much begging and my PG warning of potential swear words, the three of us cozied up and watched half the episode last night, and the rest of it tonight.  What an hour.  The boys and I talked about innovation and creativity and the adventures and risks of trying new foods.  As we watched the show with the subtitles on (usually our weak grown-up attempt at minimizing the 3 s’s: swearing, sex and shooting), Nate learned that slow is not spelled SLO and asked, “Why is the food so little but served on such big plates?”  Jacob took away that if the doctors recommend a drastic surgery and give you abysmal odds, you talk to more doctors.  And I ask him, “Did Miss Skylar know about your dad when she was telling you all about this particular episode?”

And he says, “No.  It never even popped into my mind until just now!”

And it’s another precious, little gift… served on a rosemary scented pillow.

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